


Breaking the Ice

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [123]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers Tower, Comfort, Dancing, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Love, POV Loki (Marvel), Reader-Insert, Stark Tower, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25541065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: Loki’s never been a fan of Tony’s parties. But then you came along.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [123]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 9
Kudos: 178





	Breaking the Ice

Thor was ecstatic. For ages now—or at least as long as the two of them had lived here in this Tower—he had tried to convince Loki to come to one of these parties. He’d tried pleading, commanding, threatening, and bargaining, only to be met each time with a blank look and a staunch refusal to move. Secretly, Loki could almost appreciate his concern. Thor was fond of reminding Loki that important people would be at those parties: reporters, news anchors, local celebrities, and seeing him dressed up in an expensive suit and surrounded by the other Avengers could only help improve his reputation in the city. Thor was dogged in his determination to have Midgard look at his younger brother with more than simply fear, but Loki wasn’t particularly interested.

That is, until you.

You were the newest member of the team. At first, Loki had tried to avoid you, but...it was difficult. There was a sweetness about you, a light, that shone brilliantly without blinding him. But beneath that light, there was also a kind of darkness. You were not entirely innocent. You were no caricature, no cartoonish archetype of childish perfection. He’d watched you in battle. You were bloodthirsty. It was clear to him that you took a certain amount of pleasure in killing the enemy, mowing down HYDRA agents as easily as if you had Rogers’s serum in your blood. And yet, when you were at home in the Tower, you were soft and kind and friendly. 

The dichotomy had drawn him in. He wanted to spend time with you, get to know your story. He’d never felt that way about a mortal before. But you allowed him in. You talked to him and smiled at him and grabbed his arm for balance when he made you laugh.

And then you kissed him first. And he was done for.

Tonight’s gala was the first one in a long time. Loki hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about it, to be honest, and he fully expected to stay right where he always stayed: in his room, with a book. But then last week you’d come back from shopping with Wanda and asked him to follow you to your room. Of course he did. You pushed him down onto the edge of your mattress and ducked into your bathroom, carrying a large bag. When you stepped out again, he had to catch his breath.

You wore a dress in sapphire-blue, and the silky material skimmed your body in all the ways he often longed to touch you. The neckline dipped perfectly over your breasts, exposing enough to tantalize, but concealing enough to keep his jealousy at bay. He reached out to touch you, but you were just out of reach, and instead of stepping closer, you twirled as though to show off the back of the dress. But he recognized that glint in your eye. You knew what you were doing.

That was all it took. He promised you, there in the golden light of late-afternoon, that he would take you to Stark’s gala. 

And he did. As he expected, Thor was rather insufferable for the first part of the night, beaming and grinning and clasping Loki on the shoulder more times than he could count. The three of you posed for endless photos, Thor’s arms thrown lovingly around the two of you. Loki grit his teeth for your sake, but he should have known that you’d see right through him. Every time Thor’s joy threatened to overcome Loki, you took his hand and dragged him off to some quiet corner, where you caressed his face and kissed him sweetly and thanked him for coming with you. Eventually, Thor settled a bit, and Loki was able to pull you onto the dance floor with him.

Your body was so warm beneath the silk of your dress. He couldn’t keep his hands off you. You held fast to him and leaned in close and followed his every step like you had been made for him. But he knew you hadn’t. That was the miracle of you. That the world had shaped you into the brilliant, fierce, lovely thing that you were, all without a single thought of _him_. But here you were, clinging to him as the two of you swept across the floor, smiling and laughing up at him in a way that made him need to catch his breath. He had spent most of his life rolling his eyes at the thought of _love_ but then you had show up and turned all of that on its head.

The night wound down. Slowly, slowly, the Tower began to empty of all its many star-studded guests. Thor broke out the Asgardian mead and plied the super-soldiers with it as they all sat together off to one side of the ballroom. Loki stood near them and sipped from his own glass, more for the lovely burn than for the intoxication. You sat a little ways away, giggling with Wanda about something Natasha was telling you. He couldn’t suppress the fond smile that curled the corners of his mouth. You were a little drunk—just enough that he knew your body would be especially warm. Your hair was coming undone a little, and falling into your face, but it only made you look all the more charming. You leaned into Wanda, and she wrapped an arm around your shoulders as she laughed, and Natasha looked rather pleased with herself. When she looked up and caught Loki looking at the three of you, her expression did not change.

That was because of you. Before you’d aligned yourself with him, she’d only ever looked at him with the cold, blank expression of an assassin. He deserved it, he knew, but it made things especially strange in the Tower. But then you’d arrived, and softened him, and then softened the others towards him. He raised his glass slightly in Natasha’s direction, and she nodded in response.

A little while later, as even the other Avengers began to bid their farewells and retire to their rooms, he looked over at you. You’d faded a bit, some of the spark in your eyes replaced with sleepiness, and you were leaning a little more fully against Wanda. His heart squeezed in his chest. Even now, you lit up the room. It was so hard to believe that someone like you would willingly tie yourself to someone like him, but you had, and you never gave even the slightest sign of regretting that decision. He should know: he searched your eyes for it constantly. You only ever looked at him with adoration. He watched you try—and fail—to hide your yawn behind your hand.

He excused himself, then, and made his way over to you. The warm, open smile that you gave him as he came to stand in front of you made his heart skip a beat. “If you’ll excuse us, ladies, I think we’ll be making our exit now.” He did hesitate for a moment, in case you wanted to try to protest, but you just set your glass down on the table in front of you and rose to your feet. For him. His stomach did a little flip as you stepped closer and he ducked down a bit to sweep you up into his arms. You squeaked and wound your arms tightly around his neck, but he only laughed.

“I can walk, you know,” you grumbled but, he noted, you did not fight him particularly hard. He laughed quietly and nodded at his teammates as he left the room. 

“I know.” 

He didn’t put you down until the two of you were in your bedroom. You helped each other undress, and though some small, selfish part of him did rather long to trail his fingers along your body and make you shiver, he did his best only to help you dress for bed. You were too sleepy for that kind of nonsense tonight. Perhaps in the morning. 

Before long, the two of you were tucked safely into bed. You’d reached for him as soon as he’d joined you, and fitted your body along his. Your head was on his shoulder, and your hand rested on his belly, and from time to time, you’d stroke your fingers against his skin. It tickled, a little, but he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. He turned his head to kiss your forehead, and you sighed happily.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” you murmured in that sweet, half-asleep voice that he loved. He tightened his arm around your back.

“For you, my love? Anything.”


End file.
